


Moonlit Paths

by JoJo419



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Animal Companions, Fluff, M/M, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Multi, Polyamory, Reader Insert Character - Freeform, Reader and Bilbo are fast friends, Reader has minor appearance descriptions, Reader has name, Reader has questionable skills, Tags will be updated as needed, first fanfic for this fandom, in various different areas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25144738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo419/pseuds/JoJo419
Summary: You’ve been traveling for so long now the open roads were as familiar as they were strange. Motel rooms your shelter, and your family a pair of dogs you loved so dearly. Even when entertained and enjoying this adventurous lifestyle, you still had a consuming longing for one thing — a home.After a sudden flip in the script, you find yourself, what belongings you have, and your proud pups at the center of a whole new world — at least, one you only remember from screens and stories. Armed with many skills and new companions, you help your new friends on their quest to reclaim a lost home.Hopefully, on the way, you find a place to call home for yourself as well.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fili/Reader/Kili
Comments: 65
Kudos: 87





	1. Change of Direction

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo hoo! Let’s give it up for a new fic! Thanks to Quarantine, I have finally had the time to watch The Hobbit trilogy for the first time...and of course my muse was immediately kidnapped by this group so now I have a bunch of ideas for Hobbit Fics. 
> 
> Hopefully you’ll join me on this ride? :D

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up with company. Two large bodies pressed against your own, close as can be however, was a little more than ridiculous. You groan, and lightly push one away from you when he starts to wake up. 

“Brutus! C’mon, buddy, no time for this today!” A wet, cold nose shoved into your face and you flop back over onto your pillow. His tail wagging away, he continues to give you sniffs and kisses as your third companion wakes up too. He joins in quickly, and you are now surrounded by two happy, furry boys. You flop back into the bed, content as they curl up around you one on each side. With a soft sigh, you scratch their heads and look up at the motel ceiling, plotting away.  
Everything is quiet, and if you had to guess it was still the early hours before even the sun dared to be awake. Check out was in a while, but you had paid in full and clarified with the lady running the place that you wanted to just rest then go. She’d been understanding, saying to just drop in before you leave, which was pretty lucky for you. Luckier still when she let you keep Brutus and Caesar in the room. 

You almost laugh out loud. Lucky. That’s a word you used way too often. So many instances of you getting lucky that at this point you couldn’t help but believe you might be a main character in a coming of age story. Shit, that would explain a whole lot wouldn’t it? You even figure you could guess how the pilot episode would go.  
Young lady strikes out on her own with a couple of packed bags, a skill set that would make the FBI have a lot of questions, and an adventurous streak a mile wide. Probably just had a big falling out with the parents — oops, spoiler alert multiple issues there! Too much to unpack for a pilot — and decided to become a traveling...whatever you were. You’d pick up a job if the area seemed nice enough, but otherwise you had your luck and gambling to get by on. 

A quiet whine on your left, and you smile at Caesar before planting a kiss on his nose. Ah, yes, episode two where you gained two new members after a little bit of fast talking and then utterly _destroying_ some scumbag at poker. At least he kept his word and gave you the pups, which once again you had luckily been raising them on the road no problem! Look at you, a proud family of three. You couldn’t help but be so...happy, with how things were.  
Except for one thing. One thing was missing from this life of freedom and open roads. It was your mysterious white whale, a figment you planned on hunting until the end of your days. A proper, well earned home. Sure, you could have chosen anywhere you stopped at. Could have saved up, rolled the dice, and seen what Fate would give you, but at each place no matter how much you loved it, you eventually felt a pull to move on. Nothing quite sang to you, no open mountain range or shimmery city lights have yet to ground you to a single spot. 

Like right now, a small tug in your chest feels as though someone from the beyond was yanking a string, calling you from the comfort of now into the beginning of another day of walking along with your boys.  
You wouldn’t give it up for anything, though. If it takes you a million years, you’ll find that perfect home. You have to, you just...know it.  
Sitting up and rolling out of bed with a grunt, you give a grin to the two layabouts still in bed. They both look almost offended, twin looks of confusion before going back to sleep. Chuckling, you head towards the simple bathroom. They can rest for a bit more. You had plans for today. 

As you dealt with the dual jobs of both getting ready for the day and packing up what you had in the bathroom — along with a slight of hand trick that had picked up some free amenities that you doubted would be missed — you plot out the course of today’s walk in your mind. The next town over was a good, very long walk if you stuck to the barren road but would be flat and probably a safe option. People would see you, maybe you could hitch a ride...but it would be hot out with no real coverage. Brutus would deal better with this, German Shepherds are typically good with heat and you had water canisters for _days_ , even with a lack of shade. Maybe a draped jacket could work?  
Caesar, though. He’s a proper Siberian Husky. Well adjusted for this odd life, but he’s always had a bit of a rough time with heat. You wouldn’t put him through anything you could avoid, and surprisingly you could avoid this. A second route would be more like a hike, a path cutting through a thick forest nearby, but there would be shade and it could cut off some serious time. Besides, you haven’t gotten a proper forest hike since...was it Montana or Idaho? Gods, those places were beautiful. The lakes were nice, too. 

Mind made up, you finish up with a couple of yanks through the mess of bed head you got to deal with every morning, and called it good. You take the bathroom bag, pack it into one of the two larger bags you had, and straighten up with a look towards the bed.  
Brutus and Caesar are dead to the world. Cackling, you continue to pack up what you own. One bag was dedicated towards essentials only, medicine you bought, packaged food — which ok wasn’t all healthy, you liked a good candy bar and you could share chips with the boys — three water bottles with built in filters, an extra canister for whatever, and some needed products for your gents. Mainly some stashed dog food and bowls. You know some extra money is sewn into a pocket on the side. 

The second bag though...maybe you didn’t need it in the sense of survival, but it’s content was good for your soul. A group of books, different contents in each and no way to figure out an order. A ocarina you’d bought at a local Ren Fair passing through Michigan, and you had learned to play like a master. A few rings, a few necklaces, which you rationalized by pretending you’d sell them if you needed the cash. A few journals, some filled out and some new. Pages heavy with ink and pictures you’d taken on your phone only to print out wedged in between entries.  
Finally, in a careful pouch of its own, your Book of Shadows and what little pieces of witchcraft you could collect over the years. Pages of spells you had seen in other books or thought up out of the blue, mentions of herbs and crystals in bottles you’d carried since the start. You would be hard pressed to give any of it away. You’d die before losing any of it to anyone else. 

Packing done and over with, you sling the two bags in a cross cross pattern over your shoulders and whistle. Up like shots, Caesar and Brutus stand shoulder to shoulder with you, tails wagging. They knew what time it was, and were full of energy. 

“Alright boys, let's get to walking!”

***

Holy shit, you might actually be lost.  
Earlier, when you had properly stopped by to say goodbye to the generous motel owner, she had outright warned you about going through the woods. Offered a map and everything, which...you had lost track of within five minutes and simply decided to keep going. It was supposed to be a straight shot through the forest after all, and it couldn’t be that hard to keep going on a straight line.  
Except it really, really was that hard. First Caesar had gone after a lot of squirrels, and sure he came right back but it was unlike him to go after them.  
Next, you had come across a crossroads in the path and while this normally wouldn’t freak you out this one had...Vibes. Vibes with a capital “V” that you didn’t exactly like so, naturally, you moved on quickly from it which meant you didn’t look at any signs. This led to your current situation of the path having ended but your walk to town has not. 

You stumble out of the trees and into a clearing, putting the bags down for a moment and sitting in the grass. This seemed like a safe spot to take a break, a nice open area complete with a lake. Seconds later, Caesar and Brutus tumble out and join you, flopping over in the cool weather. As you had gone deeper in, the previous heat you had worried about had faded away and left you with a beautiful morning to noon trek.  
Glancing around, it’s actually surprising how quiet things are. This deep in you would expect a few animals to surely be here at a lake — body of freshwater and all that. Maybe even some birds singing but there’s no noise. Not even a breeze blowing by, just silence. Taking a moment to breathe was nice, and you focus only on the surroundings. Normally you’d take the chance to meditate, honestly you’ve been slacking lately you probably **should** meditate, but the good scenery and a perfectly open lake…  
You break out in a smile. 

“Ok, ok come on sweeties! Come swim with mama!” You stand up quickly, taking off your shirt and jeans. Nobody’s around to see or swipe so you weren’t too bothered. Besides, anything wet can dry off the rest of the walk there. The boys’ heads shoot up, and they get to watch you take a running leap into the calm waters. Well, they aren’t calm anymore.  
With a giant splash, you go fully under and open your eyes. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just the clear emptiness of the water surrounding you, and when you look down just a sandy floor to be seen. It’s...actually, this doesn’t seem that right. Shouldn’t there be fish or even some underwater plants? Hell, there’s barely any sign of movement coming from you, like you’re just floating in literal blue space. At least it’s peaceful in that quiet way. Needing air, you kick a couple times, and resurface with a small gasp. 

You don’t even need to look around that much to know things are different. Caesar and Brutus are still ok, now splashing like puppies in a more shallow part but doing just fine. You can still see your bags sitting in a small pile on the shoreline...but the trees are different. Larger. Way larger than they were literal seconds before. The air even feels different, charged and energizing — fresher maybe? It felt wonderful, almost like the rest of the world has fallen away and now it’s just you three in this place. You swim for a while, just letting the cold water ease any worries you had away. After a while, though, you know it’s time to move on. You swim back, getting out and heading up to change into warmer clothes, checking over your tattoos both nerdy and magical for any hidden hitchhikers — it’s happened before. Maybe it’s from your dip in the water, but the weather seems colder now. Far colder than before, with a noticeable charge in the air. The energy is sharp, electric almost, tingling in your skin. You have a feeling whatever invited you here, is now calling for you to leave. 

“Brutus! Caesar! Here!” The sharp call and command has them running over, and you start your way back on course to getting out of this forest. You can still feel that changed energy, even when you rediscover the path you had left before. The energy follows you down the dirt trails and through the trees when once again paths leave you, and isn’t that strange again? The path just trails off, like it barely existed at all. A part of you is suspicious about it, you didn’t do any spells or charms in the field and you don’t exactly know what the energy means, you doubt you had service so no point trying to look things up for whatever could cause it.  
A part of you loves it though. Finally, it feels like something inside you has settled down. Like a piece of you that was missing is now back where it belongs, and you could finally be whole again. You don’t think you’ve ever been this way before, though, so that sense of knowing is odd but enjoyable. 

After a couple of hours walking, and some breaks in between to make sure everyone drank water since hydration is always important, you start seeing the trees thin out. As you walk out of the trees and into the sunset lit clearing, you stop and just...stare at the sight in front of you. This is... **not** where you were supposed to turn out. The town you had been on your way towards was a used to be mining town, which would mean obvious mountains and roughened roads lined with rocks.  
What you're staring at is a grassy field. A large, hill covered grassy field. You could see the occasional cluster of trees but no piles of rocks or mountains covered in proof of mining. It takes you a few minutes to truly realize that, yeah, you are **_deeply_** in the wrong place. 

You start walking, more of a stumble really, out further into the unknown territory. This was seriously messing with you, because every part of you felt like you should recognize this place. Like some past life memory screeching in the back of your head, repeatedly slapping your subconscious because SOMETHING is so familiar about this place it is both a tragedy and an outright crime you don’t remember it.  
It’s when Brutus takes off in a dead sprint you snap out of your mild dazed march. It’s a quick hand slip into a small pocket and you have a pocket knife clutched in an iron grip. Caesar chases stuff and comes back, just wanting to act like a big tough boy. Brutus, he was not the play around type with chasing. If he’s after something, it’s either dangerous...or you now had to go make sure your foolhardy boy wasn’t terrorizing some bunny. A startled shout gets you running, though. You’re pretty certain he just took someone down. 

“I’m so sorry he just gets excited with strangers I swear he’s —“ You cut yourself off with a strangled sound, reaching the downward slope Brutus had bolted towards and — successfully, of course — pinned down whoever he had decided to chase. You’d been expecting some farmer or adventurous teen, who you could quickly apologize to and get some directions from. Once you saw them, though, you're pretty sure your brain must’ve short circuited.  
You’re staring at a fucking Hobbit. 

***

Externally, you must have seemed pretty chill if extremely different to the everyday normal. Hell, you really really _really_ didn’t want to know what the other Hobbits had thought of you on your walk to Bag End, which was most likely not the kindest thoughts. You didn’t remember much of the story, which granted you’d only seen the movies those were easier to sneak than books most days, but from what you did remember Hobbits seem pretty laid back and not adventurous.  
You probably looked like some human that went off the deep end. It makes you laugh.  
Internally though, you were legitimately freaking out. You didn’t worry about much — that’s a lie but you’ll insist upon it — but this was likely a good thing to be concerned about. Nevermind getting lost from a road or lost in a state, you were in a whole other world! You were in a literal other plane of existence...dimension...was there a word for this?! Shit, screw that you’re staring down Bilbo Baggins! At least you remember him or you’d probably be freaking out even more!

Speaking of staring, he was watching you carefully. Like, very cautiously. You don’t blame him remotely, especially with the way Brutus was watching him. He can be pretty intimidating.  
“So...I’m not quite certain I’ve ever seen anyone...dressed like you are, Miss.” You honestly snort at this, but nod along to Bilbo’s statement. Yeah, you highly doubt he’s ever seen anyone in a Dio sweatshirt and jeans around Middle-Earth. 

“Yeah, I have weird tastes. Look, I get I’m likely the biggest weirdo you’ve seen — wait no Gandalf fits there —“ You keep going, ignoring the surprised look at knowing Gandalf, “But I think being completely blunt might help us both here. Hi, I go by Minerva. I’m not from Middle-Earth. I mean completely not from here, not overseas not up in a tower...I’m pretty sure I somehow crossed over worlds or something.” Shrugging, you start digging into a bag, smiling reassuringly as you pull out a necklace or two. It’s the best you could do, seeing as you doubt your money could get you far here. 

“I completely understand this is unorthodox as anything, but I will literally trade anything for...for directions towards somewhere I could stay or help, or honestly anything. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know how I got here...” You stop rambling when Bilbo makes a motion with his hands, heart sinking. He was going to turn you away, wasn’t he? Shit, double shit you had no IDEA where to go and you had to look after the pups how—

“It’d be rude of me to kick you out, because as wild as your tale is...it’s actually quite believable.” He shakes his head a bit, laughing, and you can’t help but smile along, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, it’s quite late. Perhaps this would be better discussed in the morning?” It’s something you both can agree on, and the rest of the evening passes nicely.  
Even into the late hours, you find yourself bonding with him. Caesar and Brutus certainly liked him, Brutus having tried to follow him everywhere. Your heart feels light, and you can’t help but wonder if...if maybe that calling of home is right here. It’s wild to think that way after a night here, not even that, but something in you has settled down in this smial. 

Yet later that night, lying in a smaller than normal bed and nearly being shoved out of it by cuddly dogs, you went over every little detail in your head. Surely you should play stupid, pretend you know little of Middle-Earth but some basic things. You could probably pretend really easily to be from places unknown, you knew quite a few different languages — ok, it’s Klingon and Dothraki but STILL — so even if someone like Gandalf showed up, you could totally play off anything weird about you…  
The One Ring tattoo around your right ankle suddenly seems like a really bad thing to have.


	2. Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different moments between Bilbo and Minerva. Some sweet, some bitter, and a few that are somewhere in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry it’s been a while. I admit, I’m having a rough time writing...anything at all lately, but I’m still here and still doing my best! I hope you are all ok out there. Please know, that even if you don’t know me, I care about you. Things may seem dark now, but I’m certain that brighter times are just on the horizon. 
> 
> Stay safe everyone. 💜

Time passes slowly, here in the Shire. Days fly by with the repetitive chores, when you allow the mind to wander and dream to the heart's content, but that’s only when distracted. When the nights come, heavy with heat or cool with a breeze, that’s when time seems to slow down. It’s a peace you’ve seen in so many different settings, from city hotels to countryside campsites, but you would swear up and down that the peace of night you feel in Bag End was so much more than just a good feeling. It’s moments of different kinds of peace, all blended together. 

It’s a moment of smoke and fire, when you convince Bilbo to start a campfire because of the coolness of the night. He smokes his pipe as you dig around for a bag of marshmallows and use up a chocolate bar to introduce him to — albeit messy and incomplete — s’mores. You’re certain you’ll never forget that look of wonder at the treat...or how quick Brutus was to try and get a little something from the hobbit. You spent that night enjoying the near quiet, all chirps of crickets and buzzing of fireflies, letting them land on fingers to only be chased off by a sniffing snout. You should’ve taken pictures. 

It’s a moment of dirt and cold, muddy paws when after a late night storm Caesar sneaked out of the smial. You had gone after him, of course, and the both of you managed to trip down a hill in the process. Both messy beyond reason, your clothes now holding more mud than fabric and Caesar’s pristine white fur now looking more like Brutus’s earthy brown, it had been quite the battle to try and clean him off. Bilbo helping — what a sweetheart he was, willing to distract Caesar as you washed him off since _somebody_ was a big baby during bath time — had led to the dog being clean, and the witch being even worse off than before. As in, somehow you had MORE mud than before. What the hell?

You probably shouldn’t have laughed so hard at how scandalized Bilbo was when you stripped out of your muddy outfit. After traveling for so long, you...honestly had forgotten about the general reactions most people have to someone just deciding to change. You also make a quiet promise to yourself to not tell anyone in this world about nudist beaches, or the fact that you visited a couple. It had been an interesting summer that year. 

As the good moments stack up and up throughout the spring and summer, from moments where you told Bilbo more about your world and him teaching you about his own, it felt nice to be in an area for so long. The longest you ever stuck around before now was a solid two months. Even then, that was for the paperwork for your boys and you had never truly befriended anyone in the area. 

Here, though, you’ve gotten to know the others. Well, not as close as you and Bilbo have become, but enough that you weren’t stared at anymore. That the children — faunts, faunts was the word for Hobbit kids — didn’t run away from Brutus and Caesar, but rather played with them. You joined Bilbo on trips to the market, often finding new herbs and plants to experiment with. A lot of things, surprisingly, are the same. It’s all cozy and warm, and the happy hot months make you look forward to the cooler seasons with even more eagerness. 

Sure, hotter seasons were better for your craft as you mainly worked in potions and plants, making protection charms passed off as necklaces and cleansing incense from whatever you could collect which you later sold cheap as a sort of medicine — you’ll never forget how accepting everyone was over the herbal remedies, but startled the one time you managed to create blue hair dye. That day in the market had been fun, and you’re even prouder over the smallest streak of blue in Bilbo’s hair — but you had a soft spot for Autumn and Winter. 

As the green lands of the Shire become more dull from the shortened hours of sunshine, you watch as it all fades into a beautiful crisp Fall season. Which is, funny enough, when you put your plan into action. As you had watched and paid close attention to others, you noticed Bilbo was just a tad bit...different from the other Hobbits. In no way would you call this bad, but you could tell the difference was there. Where you saw most Hobbits reading about flowers and proper gardening tips, you would catch Bilbo deep in a story about fighting knights and castle rescues. When he questioned you about the places you’ve been, you’d catch a glimmer in his eyes, like the strike of a match catching against a seeking soul to light that fire you’ve always felt yourself…  
The call to adventure. 

You knew you’d have to start slow, though. Culture was culture, and you weren’t about to disrespect the kind man whose been letting you stay with him. So, one Fall morning when he had been chatting with the local butcher, you had snuck away and bought some groceries of your own. It had been hard to smuggle them into the smial, but sooo worth it once you did. You set to work once you were alone, cutting and carving with a freedom you’d long lost from the consistent moving from motel to motel. 

This is how Bilbo finds you, elbows deep in pumpkin guts and with a huge grin on your face. He looked so **concerned** that you had quickly explained what was going on, before waving him over to join you. The entire Fall he had seemed so tense...but now, with the two of you digging into pumpkins, you watched the stress just fall away. 

Roasted pumpkin seeds always tasted better with friends, and it was a nice night the four of you enjoyed them out on the porch, watching the flames of jack o'lanterns dance in the night. No one else had the carved pumpkins, but your designs of a dragon and a witch on a broomstick felt like the perfect pair. You don’t let your eyes linger on the dragon for long, a heavy feeling in your heart when you did look over. 

That winter, that winter was both your best...and your worst. The best from you having a stable home for once, not a worry in the back of your mind to try and note where your family would stay over the course of snowfall and ice. It was also strangely quiet...you could count the number of times the entirety of the population stayed home on one hand, but throughout winter that seemed to be the number one place to be; home. 

You had a bad feeling about this. 

***

“Right. I’ve checked, and double checked. We have candles for days — we can use some of my more fancy ones too — and plenty of wood piled up, dried and ready to burn. I managed to actually knit together a few extra blankets, and I know plenty of tricks to keep us busy throughout the months.” You had been repeating this speech for a few days now, but you have yet to see the shadows fall away from Bilbo’s eyes. It was...concerning, to put it lightly, “Hell, I’m certain I could go out and hunt a few deer or something. Pelts are good for warmth, right? A night out in the forest and—“

“Minerva no!” Bilbo, who had been curled up in an armchair nervously smoking his pipe, had hopped up and actually grabbed you by a wrist. You could feel his hands shaking. “The cold! You can’t go outside! It’s...It’s dangerous. It’s dangerous out there….” He wouldn’t look you in the eyes, not entirely, and when you look out the closest window a passing thought catches your attention like a stray snowflake. 

“Bilbo...are you scared of the weather? It’s understandable, the colder months have always been a little darker to most…” You trail off when the shaking in his hands grows into a shaking of the whole body. You sit down right on the floor and just...just hug him tight. An immature, but instinctual, part of you actively snarls teeth at the outside, like you could threaten the weather into behaving itself. 

“...It was called the Fell Winter, and...it was the worst the Shire has ever seen…” That’s how the story starts, and by the end of it you refused point blank to let Bilbo out of your grasp for anything. That day the cold seems bitter in a way you haven’t felt for years. Even when you knew to fear and respect winter’s wrath, out on open roads, you still loved it so dearly and now — now it felt like a stranger.  
It didn’t have to be, though. 

The plans form in your head, twisting serpents chasing each other’s tails into knots. You wanted to help, and you knew one great way that helped you out with certain emotional problems was memories. Happy ones, ones you purposely created to try and force out the bad with something better. Sure, maybe it wasn’t exactly the healthiest of methods...but you’re doing pretty fine so surely it can work again!

You both stay quiet for a long time. “Ok, Bilbo…” He looks up at you, and you just smile, “Here’s what we’re gonna do…”

***

The first couple of weeks in...what you’re pretty certain is a Middle Earth December goes easy. You distract Bilbo with books, ones from your world, and even break out a couple of the journals you’ve made over the traveling years. It’s honestly really pleasant to have someone to tell the memories and stories, enjoying the feeling of sharing all the chaos you’ve gotten involved in...and oh it’s just the funniest thing when he acts scandalized by it all, but you can see a glint in his eyes that you could only label a mischievous envy.  
A promise of helping cause mischief in the Spring is all it takes to turn it into a willing show of his own chaotic side. Soon, it’s the both of you telling stories about wild youth and activities that would turn heads. You skip a few turns, though, not really wanting to drag up old sleeping demons. You know he’ll ask eventually, but not now. 

The stories only work for so long though. You run out of them, eventually, but you’ve dragged out what Bilbo was calling his “Took Side” — whatever the hell that meant — and if it was going to lead to your friend embracing his own adventurer nature, you weren’t about to surrender a single inch. You had to get creative now, and thank the Gods you knew how to do that right. You get the Ocarina out, and start to teach. It’s a little difficult, only one instrument, but you both manage well enough.  
It’s after your musical stint that, while digging through your bags, you find an old hobby...honestly you thought you sold it a long time ago. 

“It’s called a veil poi.” You hold up the poi for him to see, laughing when Caesar and Brutus take one look at the ball part and get excited, “At least, this part is called the poi. The veil used to be silk, but I ended up having to sell it a while back. We can still use it though!”

This lasts all of a few hours, and while you kept the grace of how to spin and twirl, quietly wishing you could still see the shimmering colors even without the physical veil...Bilbo’s attempt doesn’t go nearly as well. You have a good laugh about it while helping untangle the Hobbit. 

Towards the end of the season though, a part of you can feel the shift. While the snow had remained steady, you swear the cold was leaking its long fingers in through whatever cracks it could find. You’d managed to get a ton of wood beforehand, so there was no worry for the four of you. However, where you had focused on survival for your own group, Bilbo knew of other worries. 

“It’s concerning, honestly. I-I mean certainly, things are much better now than...before...but I know a few other Hobbit families who might not have been as well off for this storm.” Bilbo was right. For the past three days, snow has been coming down to the point you’re pretty sure it’s up to the outside window sills. Hobbits don’t do well in cold, you’ve seen it and it made sense — after all, you could remember how green the Shire is. People so used to Spring wouldn’t do as well in Winter, shit you saw it before with how different States handled their own weather. 

Which, really, that left you one available option. 

“I can head out for a while. Used to get so much colder than this in my home state, and I know the roads. I’ll go check up on everyone, and be right back.” Your smile is not as comforting as you hoped. 

It goes as well as you expected, but with the promise of coming _straight back_ and taking Caesar with you, you’re out the door of the smial and into the frigid wilds. You make stops close by first and foremost, checking on the families and being certain to note if anyone needs anything. If there were any sick, or reasons to return multiple times. The faunts especially looked any few minutes they could get with Caesar, who you wanted to laugh at when he did a check up on however got close enough — that is, poking someone with his nose to see what’s up. You loved your boy, a genuine leader. 

It’s the walk back to Bag End that turns strange. Like a literal tug of rope, you feel a slight **pull** in your chest, and start looking around. A glance down shows that Caesar was now standing at attention, baring teeth into the darkness of the night. You suddenly regret leaving your pocket knife back hom...at Bag End’s. Not bringing a light was bad, too. You could hardly see now, and if you were about to have a showdown you didn’t want to risk anything. 

It’s hardly an idea. Honestly, you shouldn’t have considered it at all. The thought is a stray one, but it holds tight. Surely...surely it just might...you hold out a hand, palm up.  
At least you’d gained a couple of things in your childhood. A healthy love of shows with magical spells and incantations was one of them, to the point you could recite some backwards if you felt the urge to show off. This wasn’t one of those times. 

“Fromum feohgiftum!” The spell was an old favorite, the glowing orb thing you remembered Merlin using to help Arthur long ago. It startles you, still, when a whole ass blue light springs from your open hand and into the air above you. Dangling, as though from a string.  
It startles the fox Caesar was snarling at, too. It taking off after that display of...of…

“Oh, shit.” You run the rest of the way back, frantically keeping watch the whole way. 

***

Bilbo had been petting — more like patting, but Brutus seemed happy regardless — the Shepherd when you had ran in and slammed the door behind you, wincing at the motion. Oops, hadn’t meant to do it that hard. 

“Minerva? Are you alright?” You...you knew he was talking to you, no other Minerva’s in the room and well it’s only you two in the room, besides Brutus and Caesar, but that’s not the point. The point is you couldn’t answer, the point is you were shaking.  
The point is you just did magic. Not the magic you are used to, which for you is more like faith, a helpful way to understand the world and find a place, but honest...that was magic. Like, like a legitimate spell, like shooting a fireball or suddenly making a tree sprout. There’s no way that should have worked. Even with your belief, Magic didn’t work like that. Magic was putting the energy out there, again back to faith. Not...not…

Hands close around your own, a light hold but steady. You refocus on the now, and see that Bilbo was now standing in front of you. 

“C’mon, dear. Sit in front of the fire, it’s alright.” He leads you over, and settles down with you on the floor in front of the heat source. Brutus takes up a sitting position behind you, putting his head on your shoulder. Caesar stays a small distance away, lying down in the dead center of the room. Watching. Green eyes shining, and it takes a moment for you to realize what your boys have done. Guard positions, a furry wall of black and brown at your back in case of someone coming up behind, and the sleek form of a white Husky prepared to warn at any movement spotted. Huh, they haven’t done this since a mild panic attack you had back in Las Vegas...oh shit was that why you could barely focus now?

Bilbo is still looking at you, concern a blatant emotion in his face. He’s just sitting with you, not saying anything really, and yet it’s the mildest show of support that has you making the choice to just...say it. 

“...I did magic. Like, like a spell. A…” You make a motion with your hands, and the strangeness of it all hits you in the chest, “I’m not supposed to be able to do that. Magic like that isn’t real, not where I’m from. I-I mean sure, I suppose I always had a gut feeling — I’m lucky in ways nobody ever should be, and there’s so much I have jotted down in my Book of Shadows that I couldn’t explain to others, but not...not…” You wheeze, loudly, and curl downwards with your face in your hands. A whimper, and you feel Brutus doing a great impression of a hug. Best he could, at least. 

“I’m in another world. I’m in another world, and I have **magic**. How the hell could this actually happen?” A mild silence, and within it your brain screeches about another Merlin reference. You look up suddenly, eyes wide, and bite the bullet. 

“Bilbo, how are magic users treated?” _Please no Pendragons, please no Pendragons…_

“A-Ah, well, I can certainly promise you won’t find any poor reactions here…” He trails off, a hand to his chin and eyes darting back and forth as though reading from an invisible book, “I doubt any other Hobbits would react much, only wizard we know hasn’t been around lately. I think Elves do magic...but that might just be Elves.” Bilbo smiles at you, and you can appreciate that he’s doing his best. Even if you still had serious concerns. 

“Maybe…” You start off slow, feeling just a bit shakier now that whatever terror you felt before — makes sense, about time the second boot dropped after all this — was beginning to loosen its grip on you.  
“Maybe it’s better we don’t tell anyone about this. Not until I understand it a bit more.”  
A muttered agreement, and the close embrace of a friend plus two dogs, is how that night ends. 

***

You’ve never seen Bilbo this frantic. It had been a nice day so far, the sun shining and you had managed to dig up some herbs for your latest pouch — plus some claw bones now in your pockets but maybe showing the darker half of your Craft was a bad choice at the moment — and you’d just finished tying it up. Bilbo was smoking out front, Brutus no doubt at his feet again...or at least, they had been before both had bolted inside. Bilbo locks the door, and Brutus wagging away with glee. You suddenly feel like you’ve seen this before. 

“B? You good?” You start walking over, but stop when Bilbo shakes his head and waves for you to stay away. A smirk makes its merry way onto your face.  
“Lobelia again?” Your smirk dies a quick death when he shakes his head. 

“No. That-That bloody wizard, Gandalf, just showed up. He’s asking about looking for an adventurer, and I kept your name out of it — got a good feeling he wasn’t talking about you...no, no of course he wasn’t…” Bilbo keeps glancing out the window, and checking the door, and all the while muttering about the sudden need to prepare for later that night. 

You excuse yourself, a quiet claim of going to clean up so you both can head to get groceries and Bilbo...well you aren’t certain he really heard you but that’s ok. You weren’t really going to clean up. You close the door to your room, and sit down on the bed. Gandalf had finally decided to visit...which, if you had to guess meant...the dwarves. Wait, no, wasn’t the proper term Dwarrow? Either way, the wizard had made his entrance and that meant you four were about to host a damn dwarf rave at Bag End’s. 

“Tuj! We’re gonna need meat, and a lot of it. Trust me.” Laughing at Bilbo’s frenzied questions ranging from _why do we need meat_ to _will you ever tell me what that means_ you sling on a jacket and start tucking away your things into your bags. Didn’t want to save packing for that night, after all. 

Your hand stills at your Book of Shadows. Did...did you remember exactly how Dwarrow react to magic?  
...Fuck.  
Now that you think about it, truly think about it, were there any other witches in Middle Earth? You know about the whole Maiar thing, but the term witch was only ever used with….

**Double fuck.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klingon Translations:
> 
> Tuj - Soulbrother
> 
> (For the record, Brutus is your typical German Shepard with blue eyes. Caesar is a white Siberian Husky with green eyes. These are my first ever animal characters, so I’m a bit out of my element with them but I’m having fun! :D Also, anyone ever notice the ONLY time “witch” is ever used is with the whole Witch-King title? I might only be a movie watcher, but I find that interesting.)


	3. Greetings

Estimated time until Operation Dwarf Rave commences; exactly five minutes. Ok, maybe even ten. Somewhere in there. You’ve honestly lost track. 

Point is that time was ticking down. Everything had been set up and prepared, down to the last detail. After rushing out and getting everything needed, you had set to work cleaning up the smial for guests while Bilbo worked in the kitchen, making dish after dish for the unexpected — well it was expected now — party. 

You had originally offered to help. After all, cleaning the smial up was an easy job. Granted, Caesar was one hell of a shedding dog but nothing a long brush outside couldn’t fix. Even with his hairy business, Bilbo was usually so good at staying tidy. Proper gentlehobbit and all that. Still, you had been shut down very strongly and very politely.  
Considering the only thing you can make without starting a fire is potions, though, you could understand why. 

Now, however, a mild problem has occurred. When stashing protection satchels you had tied to window sills and tucking away any candles you had carved runes in, you began to notice a pattern. The moment you left a perfectly re-normalized room, everything came back out again! This was the FIFTH time the charm you hung from the pantry ceiling meant to ward off pests has just...reattached itself! Which was concerning, because if there’s one thing you remember clearly, it was the Dwarf Rave of epic proportions about to go down. Including them raiding the pantry, alongside other things. 

You’re gonna have to fight to not join in when they start singing.  
After stashing the charm, _again_ , you head out...and wait. It’s only a little time later that you catch what little rat, or would burglar fit better, was doing it. 

“Bilbo! I need to hide the charms! No revealing my ways, remember?” Even while laughing, you go to stop him from hanging it back up. He just shakes his head at you, and was now shoving the charm into his pockets. 

“Yes, well, I don’t see how it’s any business of theirs if you’re a witch. They’ve been invited into this house — or as far as they’re concerned they were — and it isn’t right. This is your home as much as it’s mine, so it’s only polite they just...deal with it!” A mild huff, and he’s marching out in righteousness only a Hobbit could have. You’re left standing there, a warm feeling growing in your chest and a smile fighting on your face. 

Perhaps leaving a couple of charms up wouldn’t hurt. Not like they’d know what it is, right?

***

It’s not the knock at the door that startles you. It’s the intensity at which Brutus launches himself from lying down in the hall to go and bark at...shit you can’t remember his name. The dude with the big axes. Two really, really big axes. Oh dear those are quite sturdy aren’t they?  
You’re pulling an excited boy away by his collar. 

“So sorry, he loves company!” You shout back, leading away the eager furry host. Caesar trots alongside you, apparently perfectly content to wait out the arriving chaos in another room. Thankfully, while you got those two situated in your room, it seemed Bilbo had taken over at answering the door. 

When you come back, there’s now two Dwarrow in the room, and a mildly exasperated Bilbo. While they’re distracted saying hello to each other — what a headbutt! — he leans over to you. 

“One with the axes is Dwalin, seems that’s his brother Balin.” Bilbo is eyeing them, and you nod along, “I, uh, don’t suppose you could guess how many…? With your, you know…” You’re pretty certain the hand gesture he does is supposed to be magic. You snort. 

“Thirteen total. One gets lost on the way here. Twice.” With a grin on your face and two fingers up in exaggeration, a knock at the door draws you away, “Here, I’ll get these ones.”

You swing the door open, leaning slightly on the frame keeping up that happy grin. The two Dwarrow standing there are certainly younger than the first two, one a blond with a braided mustache, actually that was a lot of braids in his hair, while the other is a brunette. You’re certain he has braids somewhere, you think it was a cultural thing if memory serves you right, but in the low lighting you can’t seem to pick them out. Nevertheless, you try to make your staring less blatant. Probably not a good idea to be ogling anyone. 

“Welcome, gents. Take it you’re joining in on this chaos?” You move away to let them in. They look to each other, then back at you. 

“Fíli.” Says the blond.  
“Kíli.” Says the brunette.  
“At your service.” Then, finally, bowing together. You respond with a bow of your own, hand to your heart. 

“You must be Mrs. Boggins then?” Kíli asks, all smiles as he and Fíli walk in. You know he means well, and no doubt is trying to play catch up since you doubted Gandalf knew you’re here therefore expecting Bilbo to answer the door, but hell if the question doesn’t make you laugh. **Hard**. 

“No, no no no no.” You’re bent over, shaking your head wheezing, “Oh, no. Bilbo’s a good friend but no. No missus for me, thanks.” Carefully, you take Fíli’s knives — holy shit so many knives you’re in love wait no can’t love knives — to put them in a hall closet. Knives can go there, right? Sure, sure. 

“Oi! Away from the box my friend!” With the other hand, you point towards Kíli who freezes mid step, about to use a certain glory box to clean his boots, “Like I said, he’s my good friend, so kindly not use the mum’s glory box like that.” Sheepishly, he backs away.

“No harm meant, Miss…” He trails off, looking up. “I don’t believe we got your name.” Oh that’s what you forgot!

“Minerva. Pleasure to meet you. Now!” You clap your hands together and grin like an imp, “You boys want to help a lady out in getting this party started, properly?” Their grins match yours, and away you lead them into the smial. 

The three of you have already managed to drag out a barrel of the good ale when you hear a clamoring at the door. And a very panicked Hobbit. Oops. You tilt your head in the direction of the commotion, grinning. 

“Better hurry. Sounds like we got more friends to catch up with.” Laughing, you hoist a smaller barrel up on your hip and walk out with it to go see the rest of the Company.  
You don’t notice Kíli and Fíli watching you leave. 

***

To your immense satisfaction, you keep your wits about you and not join in with the well timed singing of That’s What Bilbo Baggins Hates.  
You do clap along, though. You’re only human. The look you get from Bilbo just makes it funnier though. Now the lot of you were just relaxing, waiting for the arrival of the currently missing — lost, he was SO lost and you just had to not cackle, especially with the small “inside joke” grins you and Bilbo kept shooting yeah other — member. Gandalf was waiting near the front door, and Bilbo was sticking with him to be a good host. 

Which left you in a room of twelve people you barely knew. Which was fine, really. No time like the present to get to know them all. After all, if you were going to be going off and fighting a dragon, alongside Gods knew what else, it would be wise to know those around you. Granted, a few of the Dwarrow were keeping to themselves mostly. Sticking to family groups or you are pretty sure talking in a different language, one you certainly don’t remember reading up on. Pity, it was fun to sass talk people in different languages. Here’s hoping it’s not about you.

“So, Mistress Minerva, how is it that a lass like you is going on this quest?” Bofur, the dwarf with the adorable hat, was currently sitting next to you all smiles and questions. With Kili and Fili across the table, and a dwarf with braids resembling a star — Nori, you’re certain — you could feel an audience listening in. You had a good feeling any answers you give would quickly find their way to everyone else.

“Truth be told, Bilbo and I had no idea this was all going to happen until only this morning. Still, I’ve travelled a lot and I won’t be letting my friend run off to face a monster without me. Plus, I’m sure Caesar and Brutus will enjoy the open roads again.” You fight a smile at the shocked look on the others’ faces. Of course wizard boy forgot to mention Bilbo wasn’t in the know.

“Besides,” You continue, trying to seem nonchalant, “I have quite a few talents that can help out and so does he. Bilbo is a great planner, tends to be quick with his words and knows how to play on manners better than anyone I’ve ever seen. He’s a great guy, no doubt in my mind. Wouldn’t have stuck around for a year if he wasn’t.”  
You were playing a game here, needing to drag attention away from you and onto the local burglar. Bilbo was the one to convince to go along with everything, and setting up a foundation of trust with the others in the Company would definitely help.

“Aye, lass. He seems the type for manners, certainly, but what about you?” Damn, trust the thief to smell a rat. Nori was prying, but at least you had enough skills to distract from anything too shady. You look at him.

“Well, I’m a decent enough fighter. Self defense and all, it’s important when traveling alone. There’s my skills with animals, I got two dogs — that’s Caesar and Brutus — who both are well trained in their own defenses. I have some knife skills, and if nothing else I can pick up a stick and start swinging. Then there’s me being able to read people, knowledge on basic medical plants and procedures, I’m great at climbing and slipping into places unnoticed, good at breaking codes, lockpicking...er…” Shit you could feel a sweat drop coming on. The more your brain comes up with, the more you’re realizing that yeah, the skills you’re listing are not exactly the BEST sounding ones…especially for a lady back in pretty much medieval times. Oops, and that’s only what you were listing off. 

It’s a relief when everyone starts laughing. Comments of you “being a fighter” and “she’s a tricky one” have never sounded so good to you than now. Normally, when others had the chance to find out about you, they tended to shy away at this point. Something about how your skills weren’t the norm which, admittingly, they weren’t but only because you didn’t live a normal life.

This though...this was rather nice. Even with the rest of Hobbiton getting used to you, you’ve only felt close with Bilbo and now, well...adding more to that list seemed like a grand idea.

***

Caesar and Brutus finally got to meet the Dwarrow, but dear _Gods_ neither of them liked Gandalf much. This was mildly concerning, as every time the wizard even tried to ask you a question or pull you away from the group discussion — which was currently Balin explaining the contract to Bilbo while the others ask questions on his skills. Interestingly enough, Thorin seems to be getting along with Bilbo quite well. No insults or disparaging comments about him being too soft for such a trip as dragon hunting. Just interested glances, as though the Hobbit was a puzzle to work out. 

Which was why you were heavily distracted by making sure your boys **behaved**. Honestly, in all your years those two have never been so determined to keep someone away from you! They’ve always been protective, sure, after all even years on the road cannot be done without the occasional incident, and they both learned quickly to suss out who would cause such a thing...but to be honest, you thought they would be more suspicious of literally anyone else.

Then again, animals often had better senses than the common human ones. They knew a threat when they saw one, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit worried about what the wizard’s reaction to your origin would be. Your boys were great judges of character, which was what made the rest of the night hilarious.

They were everywhere, doing every little thing a pair of hounds could do to endear themselves to the Company. They barely had to bother Bilbo, passing him by for the occasional pat, but everyone else was free game and new territory. You did the absolute best you could, trying to reign them in. Yet, alas, for all the strength and mettle of Dwarrow, it seemed no one could resist dogs.

Bifur was first, cornered by Brutus and then Ceaser before both simply collapsed upon him. It was over in seconds, a few minutes tops, both enjoying their new cuddle buddy before moving on to Bofur and Bombur. Neither stood a chance, and you really don’t think they tried to resist to begin with. The brothers RI were taken down with just as much swiftness, though this time there was a little resistance as Nori kept trying to escape the puppy pile.

You knew Caesar could fake a whine, but you were legitimately impressed with how much soul the dog could put into it. Ori giggling at his brother getting guilted by a dog was great though.

Dwalin held out the longest, or at least appeared to. You knew better. You saw tails wagging under the table earlier, no doubt scraps had been traded away for his freedom from after meal cuddles. Basically sold his soul, though, no doubt they would collect later. They gave Balin the Bilbo treatment and only demanded pats before moving on.

They did eventually end the terror with Gloin and Oin, being particularly careful with the healer because of the horn no doubt. It was rather sweet, really...now if only they would stop trying to herd you, Fili, and Kili together that would be great.

The mood has shifted though, once playful and happy to a more somber and darker tone. You could feel it, it was time for the truth to come out. While Bilbo had asked you plenty of questions about tonight — how many were coming, what to make, were they staying overnight — he never asked why Gandalf had brought them here. Had never thought to even question why his smial specifically. You hadn’t offered an answer up, anyways, knowing it would be better if he heard why from the King himself. About what the adventure would be, even with the discussion of the contract it’s a whole other ballgame to hear about it from those who have seen it. The world seems quiet, when they finally discuss the mission, when you hear the answer of “No” there would be no one else on this journey. None of the other Dwarf Lords were willing to lend help.

You’ll never be able to understand how the others made the choice to abandon a king so willing to fight for the future.

It’s when the contract comes out that you get involved, calmly watching as Bilbo reads over the papers then turning to Balin while the others are busy.

“I would ask that you understand that, while you were all only expecting one more, my dogs and I will be coming along.” You laugh slightly when he mentions the contract before shaking your head, “I don’t care about gold or glory, Maqoch. I only want to see that my Tuj is safe.”

Maybe it was the rain on the windows, coming down slow and steady, just enough to soothe, but the Klingon rolls off your tongue easier than ever. Regardless, you feel eyes on you and look up to see Bilbo motioning for you to head towards the back with him. Excusing yourself, you do just that.

“Everything alright? Did you sign it?” He nods, and you hold back a squeal of delight. You couldn’t wait to show him all the joys, and sure challenges, of life on the go. You’ve missed it.

“It seems we are bound for adventure after all, my friend. I suppose we better get packing. Oh! Would you pack though, I have to get them settled in, and you know what to take so I figured you would know best?” It’s a frantic question, but it’s Bilbo so you understand perfectly what he is asking.

“Yes, I’ll make sure we don’t forget anything important I promise.” You wanted to laugh at how quickly he speeds off after you say this, but instead just watch him go. In the back of your head, you note how closely Thorin is watching him. Huh, wonder what that’s about?

***

You’ve packed up your things, the standard two bags with everything. You didn’t want to leave anything behind, Gods know how long this all would take and you wouldn’t let Lobelia have a inch of what is yours. Caesar and Brutus have made themselves comfortable in a cuddle puddle on the floor, but you imagined once they noticed you and Bilbo sharing a bed — everyone was doubling up, and you’ve known him the longest — they would not hesitate to join in.  
Shit how the hell were you gonna fit two adults and two dogs on a bed?

The door slams behind you, and you spin around to see a panicked Hobbit. He looks up at you, and you think this panic isn’t just bad manners from the others. Wonder what chaos was caused for this sort of panic. 

“Everything alright?” Stupid question but it works.

“They found the charms in the pantry. That’s all I heard before they started talking in that other language.”

Yep. That sounds about right.

Brutus barks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klingon Translations:
> 
> Maqoch - friend  
> Tuj - Soulbrother


	4. Daybreak

You are so glad you packed the night before. So, so glad. As you stood in the room, looking through what appeared to be an empty smial, where there used to be like **thirteen whole ass Dwarrow where did they GO.**

“BILBO WE GOTTA GO!” Ok it was rude to yell but where did everybody…?! No sign of things out of place, no note, not even a — oh wait note in the kitchen.   
“Uhhhhh something something…oh ok they got ponies that’s cool.” Chuckling, you look up from the paper in your hands to smile at the now flustered Bilbo, “I guess we’re meeting them? Leaving at eleven, apparently they went to get the...it says ponies, I want to assume horses but I honestly think they’re talking about ponies.”

You both share a breathy chuckle, the mild panic of waking up to everyone gone now with the explanation in place.   
Until Brutus basically mows down Bilbo on accident. Poor pup wanted to see what all the fuss was about!

Oops. At least he gives Bilbo kisses afterwards. 

***

Everything was packed, rechecked, and you four were out the door. Bilbo had left detailed instructions with the nice family next door — you probably should know their names, but it’s still… _way_ too early to be operating right now. Sure, you were used to having to get on the road at early hours, but at least at that point you were out and about before the sun was up. 

Right now it felt like that bright idiot in the sky had a personal vendetta against you. Seriously! At least such good weather now surely meant the beginning of the trip should go smoothly. For a while, at least. 

The second thing, not that you really minded this part, was the fact that the note was completely correct. Ponies, which while very cute, were very much unable to be ridden. Still, you kept your own pace with the others, Caesar and Brutus taking every chance they had to dart around and sniff at their new animal friends. At least they knew better than to get too close, startling them would be a bad idea. 

You stuck with Bilbo, matching his own pony’s pace at the near back. At least you could soothe the sweetheart — the horse not the Hobbit — if she started to get worked up. You knew he meant well, but Bilbo had no idea what to do on top of a horse. So that was what you currently were trying to teach.

“I promise the pony knows what she’s doing. You just gotta steer.” Chuckling at the bewildered expression, “Hold onto the reins, don’t pull them too hard on her though, and breathe.”

“How is it you understand this, I’ll never understand myself…” Bilbo’s muttering was funny, too, but you could get where he was coming from. Your own first time on a horse wasn’t really voluntary either, having found the poor thing when walking through the South at one point. You had probably been real lucky to not get bucked off when you hopped on and, instead, had simply rode with the horse until you saw the owner sprinting down the path towards you both.

Interesting times in the Southern states. Interesting, interesting times.

“I’m good with animals. Especially the more canine type, but I guess I can work with horses too.” You wanted to laugh at watching Caesar and Brutus trail near Dwalin. You knew the signs of someone sneaking a pup snacks. Lowering your voice, you lean a bit closer, “Besides, I think my...special interests work best with nature.”

It was the truth of the matter. Some screwing around had led to you making trees sprout up and summon animals like a Disney Princess. Using magic felt interesting, too, made you feel like you just dipped your hands in static and ate what you would think a cloud would feel like just by looking at one. If you used it for too long, though, you’d start getting really dizzy. 

Bilbo had stopped you before it got intense though, back then. Forcing a cup of tea filled with sugar and milk before herding you into the nearest smial.   
That huge ass sunflower though had been worth it just to see the happy faunts faces. You loved just seeing them all try and take naps on that thing. So worth it. 

A part of you wanted to push and see what you could really do though. There had to be more to it than just some plant growth and animal talking. Even if that’s still pretty super cool, but you had summoned a glowing orb. So something has to be up.   
Still, the adventure was just beginning so you would likely get the chance.

“Sorry for listening in, but did we hear you say you’re good with animals Miss Minerva?” You look up to see Kili and Fili not travelling closer to you both, and if you were a betting woman you’d say Bofur and Bifur — traveling closest besides the boys — would listen in as well.

“That’s right,” Smiling you point towards Caesar and Brutus. They have changed targets and are now trailing Bombur. “I trained those two all by myself on the road. Made sure the commands would be in a few different languages too, so I wouldn’t have to worry about any confusion if the worst happened. They listen to me pretty well, anyways.”

It’s almost wrong, how fast the friendly smiles fly away from their faces. As though suddenly something wasn’t that funny anymore.

“The...worst, Miss Minerva?” Oh dear. Maybe this is a case of high fantasy, yet no real danger world differences. Maybe you were seriously mistaken in what Kili was asking now.

“W...Well, see, where I’m from it can get dangerous travelling on the road by oneself. One small mistake can lead to being a missing person. Add on the fact that I’m typically alone, and there isn’t anyone back then who would have bothered to look...I got pretty lucky most days.” You force a chuckle, honestly wanting to move past this topic quickly. 

Life on the road was nice, you enjoyed it. Especially with your luck since you had gone on many different adventures and experiences, stayed in so many places and got to keep different — little — souvenirs. Learn so many talents and tricks, both for fun and for life.   
Dangers were so varied, though. Money was always a worry. Food needed to be rationed if you were away from people for a long time. Shelter was never a promise, and animals could find their way in anything you could make. 

...People could be cruel, too. You were young, once, and came close to being a missing poster model a few times. A car door already opened, a supposedly offered hand. Food left out, or even handed to you. You found kindness, too, and soon could tell the difference. Thankfully your luck and skills grew with age. Still, though…

“Erm, Miss Minerva…” It’s the hesitation in Bofur’s voice that has you looking at him, and the fact that he won’t meet your eyes that tells you this isn’t going to be a good conversation, “Won’t your family be looking for you?”

“...No. No they aren’t, and they never will.”

You’re almost thankful for the silence that follows, but you could do without the staring. 

***

That night was the night you all hear the story of Thorin Oakenshield, and you end up listening in from nearby. As Balin recounts the battle, you end up nudging Caesar towards Thorin, the dog heading over and sitting at his feet.   
You turn away with a smile when he eventually looks back towards the now watching company. Bilbo seems to be the only one who notices Caesar by his side, as the rest are busy being in awe of such a feat, taking down the pale orc. 

You think you’re the only one who catches Thorin petting him, too. Which you of course keep silent on, wouldn’t want to ruin his oh so grumpy king image.   
Well...mostly keep silent. 

“Looks like someone is a dog fan…” It’s you and Bilbo side by side, Brutus flopped over your lap and acting as a great living blanket. You refuse to hide the grin you’re giving Bilbo, “Animals are great judges of character. You can definitely trust how they act around people if they’re decent or not, plus it’s just an awesome personality trait.”

You wait until Bilbo’s staring at you before continuing, “Some might even call it… _attractive_.” Snickering, you lean away when he swats at your shoulder. Face flushed red, he looks away and into the fire. 

“Now, why would you say that?” He’s trying to rub the red away, and you’re trying to contain your laughter. 

“Well I’m just talking over here. Why, hearing something you like? Something you… _agree with_?” You finally start cackling as Bilbo gives a playful shove and moves away. With the night winding down, it felt right to tease and mess around. Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement and look up. 

Fíli and Kíli are sitting a few feet away, smiling. Seems you aren’t the only one in a playful mood. 

“Don’t you worry, Miss Minerva, we won’t let any Orcs get close to you.” Kíli looks better than before, when Thorin ended up scolding him over the mocking they gave Bilbo.   
Just because they were cute doesn’t mean you’d let them get away with it. Besides, pushing luck was your specialty...maybe you could get some info this way.

“I’m hardly worried about Orcs. Fearsome foes they are, at least they bleed. It’s the ones that aren’t bound to our reality to be worried about.” Seeing that you caught attention — once again you can see more Dwarrow listening in and trying to seem like they aren’t — you continue. 

“Let me tell you gentlemen a few legends from my end of the world. One of a horseman roaming a town called Sleepy Hollow, and another of a woman named Mary who loves her mirror...”

***

Ok so maybe the ghost stories had been less than appropriate, but it had been a hell of a good time. You even slipped in a few experiences of your own, which at the time you had been either paid to handle the lingering spirit accordingly or just went with the crew exploring. 

You wish you’d hexed that one idiot. Seriously, dude hires a witch to come and help with his show, then proceeds to disregard all your advice. Even made a couple passes at you, after you explained that you were very much NOT interested. 

Whatever. 

Still, you got the info you needed. At least, it was some reassurance towards the runes incident. Not once has anyone brought up what they found in the smial. No mention of strange magic, of unknown drawings. You even baited them with a rumored story of a spirit and strange markings on the walls, but no reaction. 

Maybe they passed it off as a Hobbit thing. You wouldn’t be too surprised if Bilbo had claimed it was during his own chats, mainly with Bombur and Ori. Seems he’s been bonding most with the quieter members of the group, Bofur and Balin close behind. It was wonderful to see him getting along with the others. 

It left you relaxed, an easy going attitude you keep up throughout the next few days while you all traveled. It’s rather peaceful, and reminds you of the days back when you camped out by roads or even those weird moments in motels when time didn’t feel real. It was wonderful, almost refreshing after a year of staying in one place. 

Then Gandalf leaves, and doesn’t that start off a bit of madness. 

***

When Bilbo, after going and bringing stew to Kíli and Fíli, comes out of the underbrush insisting you follow him, you do exactly that. You gave the command for Caesar and Brutus to stay, before trekking into the forest. On the way, you check on the horses, and…

“Um, Bilbo there’s only fourteen.” You do another head count. “Yeah that’s fourteen. Pretty certain we started with sixteen. Did Gandalf take two?”

“Er, no no he didn’t. That’s...why I came to get you…” You two continue on. 

There’s trolls. Trolls that, apparently, the princes left you and Bilbo to steal from. Technically only Bilbo, but you could hardly let that happen. You two watch, and it’s disgustingly obvious what the rock heads were planning. Nope, not with those ponies they’re not. Thinking fast, you check a pocket, find what you’re and make up a plan.   
Well, half of a plan. A decent, sort of wild half of a plan.  
...Shit, it’s more of an idea but it has to work. 

“Ok, so these trolls don’t seem to be the clever sort. Which means it wouldn’t take much to distract them.” You look at Bilbo, and give what you really hope is a reassuring smile, “Leave it to me, Tuj. I’ll lead them away, and you grab what you can.”

***

The trees were flying past, and you had to jump over a couple of branches and curling roots. With Katy Perry’s “Fireworks” blasting from your cell, you could almost mistake this for a night jog. You could almost pretend this was just an enjoyable night out. 

Rather than that, this was probably the point in a movie that would be both hysterical and horrifying. Maybe even a little cheesy, where — to the soundtrack of Katy fucking Perry — the main lead was being chased through the woods by three big ass trolls. 

You hope whatever cosmic audience was watching pisses themselves laughing, because you certainly weren’t. 

It hadn’t taken much, just a quick shout and all three were after you — you almost felt bad for them. They left the little campsite behind, and you hoped Bilbo made it to get the ponies. You did say you would cause a distraction, and here you were.   
Causing a distraction. 

“COME AND GET ME YOU BASTARDS!” Cheering, you keep running to the music and frustrated growling behind you. You could feel your own heartbeat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say you heard singing — not your phone, but something else. 

Looking upwards gives you the wake up call you need, though. Dark, still so dark. Without the sun, you had no idea how to beat the trolls. You either had to run, run, and run all night hoping they kept up the chase...or it’s time to take a roll of the dice on your magic. 

Good thing you’re a gambling woman. 

You’re not entirely sure where you are when you stop and hide, ducking behind a rock just big enough to cover you. Hands shaking, you finally shut the music off. You stay quiet, hearing them nearby — arguing, they’re arguing, talking about food and farmers and you can’t feel your legs your knees are shaking — while taking deep breaths. 

_Focus, focus. I need sunlight. I need...sunlight_. How could you summon sunlight? How could you bring the dawn down on their heads? You knew a few words in Klingon, **jajlo’** for example directly translated to dawn’s rays. It just might work, after all Klingon is your thing. Isn’t that what matters, that it has your personal touch?

You really hope so. 

“Looking for me you rock brained buckets of rot?!” You jump up on your hiding rock, grinning. This has to work, this has to work. This has to work, for your sake and the others.   
_I’m not letting them get to the others, not a chance in any Hell!_

You don’t give them a chance to react, focusing. That music you heard before, you can hear it again and it’s rising. Hands out, you scream. 

“Jajlo’!” The music — is that even music? You can’t compare it to any you’ve ever heard before… — screams with you and you have to look away after a burst of light comes from your hands. 

When it fades away, there’s now three huge statues in the clearing that used to be trolls. You sit down in the dirt, wincing. Shit, that’s a killer headache. Closing both eyes barely helps. 

There’s a wet nose against your cheek, a wiggling furry body. Smiling through the ache, you open an eye. It’s Brutus. 

“Hey, bud...how did you find me…?” Strange, he doesn’t disobey so someone must have sent him after you. Struggling, you get up and start walking. 

“Ok, Brutus. Lead! Lead home.”  
Back to camp, back to home. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klingon Translations:
> 
> Tuj - Soulbrother
> 
> Jajlo’ - Dawn’s Rays

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey! Thanks so much for reading, please do remember to comment. It means a lot to me.


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